When I was 10, we moved to Wheaton, Illinois. On Arbor Day, I brought home a skinny honey locust sapling from Hawthorne Elementary School. My mom and I planted it in the back corner of our brand-new subdivision lot. My sister, Carla, and I returned a few years ago to see what had become of the small ranch house. It was gone, replaced by a new house that occupied nearly the entire lot. But I knew we were there when I spotted a full, mature honey locust shading the backyard. I felt wonder and pride and satisfaction and thought of my mother.